Why do titles sound like clickbait
by Shabhira the Dadedric Princess
Summary: This a rewrite of a fic from forever ago, ft shaziira valtieri sort of hero who just wants to sleep why are we doing this again.
1. I came for a good time this isn't it

_She was falling, through an inky blackness that threatened to swallow her whole. She was falling and she didn't know where. She was falling and all she could do was scream until her throat bled. Scream and out tumbled stars of silver. And when she clutched at her throat it simply burned her hands and made her shriek even louder in pain._

 _When her tears joined in they were a molten gold that burned as it traced down her cheeks and neck. It was as beautiful as it was painful. As she continued to fall, drops of gold and stardust chasing after her, she stretched her head back to see the jaws of Akatosh open below her. With their eyes watching from the side with a deep sadness as she fell into the jaws of a god, a pitiful scream cut off short as his jaws snapped shut._

The cart hit a hole and she jerked awake. Pupils going from infinite black pools to narrowed slits as her breath caught in her throat. The dream by itself wasn't unusual on its own, but what was was the fact she was in a cart with her wrists bound and not much of a memory of how she had arrived in this situation.

There was. The campfire, on the edge between Cyrodill and Skyrim. The blood on her hands from a kill (human or animal she didn't remember now). The horse nearby her bedroll already slumbering. And then there was, there was. A fight? She didn't know now and was torn between a desire to know and a desire to be in the dark, lest something decided to force her to play a part.

Noises eventually dragged her from her thoughts fully, not the click clack of the wheels and the horse, but the voices of men. With that Nordic accent that always so faintly rang of superiority, or maybe she was just embittered in her age. "Good to see you're finally awake, I was starting to wonder if you had died and the Imperials just chucked your corpse up here. You were caught with the rest of us in an ambush remember?" No. She didn't remember, not really anyways.

But before she could even open her mouth one of the others cut in, obviously not a soldier from his ragged clothes. "Damn you Stormcloaks! Before you came to Skyrim everything was fine, Empire was nice and lazy. I'd have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell by now!"

So she was stuck with Stormcloaks and a thief while surrounded by the Empires men. There was a certain irony in that. "Well we're all brothers in binds now horse-thief." And all brothers in death soon too.

"And what's his problem huh?"

"Watch your tongue! That's Ulfric Stormcloak the true High-King of Skyrim!" Oh. Oh. The irony only increased by ten fold as she felt a shaky laughter well up inside of her. She was going to finally die and it would be at the hands of the Empire she once served while next to someone who used to be a friend. Flits of their last meeting came up uninvited.

" _You can't just kill the king, you can't just challenge him like that!" He was stupid and young and he was listening to her. That last aggravated her more than anything else and in her rage she flipped the grand table over. Goblets and food went flying as she snarled at him, that feral nature bleeding through. "If you do succeed what then? You would condemn your men as traitors! You would be a traitor to be sent to slaughter!" And yet, and yet he only looked at her with mild disdain for her outburst._

" _If, if. Why do you doubt my ability so? I will succeed and they will see-"_

" _They will see nothing! They will see a fool and a mad man at that!" She was shaking with rage now and she could hardly control herself. "You will do nothing for your cause but get more killed!"_

" _Like they aren't already being killed now?! Like the Thalmor aren't already killing and taking people prisoner for the slightest offense?!" He was right, he was right but this was the wrong way to go about it and gods he wasn't listening. He wasn't listening and she would see another friend die and she._

 _She would not be responsible this time. With an inhuman coldness she spat, "Then you may do as you wish Ulfric but I will not be joining you on your death sentence." He was warned and that was all that could be done as she turned on her heel, the clicking deafening in that silent chamber and the slam of the iron doors even more so. And if she spent several hours in a panic with claws dug into her ribs to force her to not go back, then at least no one was around to see it happening._

And now she was in fact going to die with him. At least after so many hundreds of years of unlife she could see her family again she supposed, as the carts rolled up to the gates and the thief prayed to silent gods.


	2. Don't lose your head(literally)

The only constant was the click of the wheels on stone accompanied by the clack of horses hooves. That and the distressed muttering of the thief. She caught snatches of words here and there but mostly she was. Gone. Somewhere else in a place where manic laughter bubbled up and she trembled like a leaf.

The world was distorted, like she was looking at it while drunk. Everything seemed to move too fast or two slow and everything bled together in such a way she only grasped snippets of her surroundings fully. High elf. Thalmor to be specific. Lip curled in a sneer. Imperials. Stone faced and disinterested. Children. Being ushered inside. The cart slowly rolling to a stop.

It was the smell of blood, her own, that brought her back just barely. She had clamped her jaws shut so tight to keep her laughter inside she had bitten clean through her lip. And now her tongue flicked out to lick the droplets before they ran down her chin to stain her fur. Everyone around her was moving and on shaking legs she moved to follow them.

Her boots were the last to hit the ground and she contemplated running. This was not how she wished to die this wasn't proper or right. But, but there were too many guards. She could take down maybe six up to ten of them before someone would move just fast enough and up a sword would slide into her heart. Even she couldn't survive that. So she stayed the impulse and apparently the thief had the same thought as her. For he bolted, his legs carrying him quickly but not quickly enough as an arrow went through his back.

One of the imperials jerked her out of her almost trance, eyes flicking from the dead body to him, "You there khajiit. Come forwards."

She was only partially aware of moving but there she was, moving her legs like a lamb willingly towards the slaughter. "State your name." Her name yes she. She had one of those. Sharp fangs dug into her tongue as she struggled to think before the words slipped out.

"Shaziira. Valtieri." That was her name or at least one of the many she clung to in an attempt to keep her identity pieced together. Her flaws sunk into her palms to keep them from shaking as the man looked down at his list. Her name wouldn't be on there no one would recognize her she kept herself hidden she didn't want the attention anymore-

"Captain what should we do? Her name isn't on the list." The captain leaned over his shoulder, eyes flicking briefly over the list before she resumed her first stance with arms crossed.

"It doesn't matter. She goes to the block as well."

"Captain-"

"Don't argue! She goes to the block." The world was twisting again as she choked down any noise that may try to worm its way out of her throat. Her head nodded of its own accord as the Imperial made some sentiment about sending her body back home to Elsweyr. If she was more aware she might shriek that wasn't her home but she just. Turned and followed the captain, stopping on the edge of the group to keep away from Ulfric who smelled so heavily of hate hate hate.

A pompous looking man strode towards Ulfric, general maybe? His armor and the way he carried himself with an air of arrogance like he knew he was unstoppable. But everything could be killed even her. "Ulfric Stormcloak." Nine even his voice had that arrogant drawl she'd come to associate with men in power. "Some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne." Stupid man stupid she told him. "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the empire is going to put you down like the dog you are and restore the peace."

It was then a distant roar came and if it wasn't for the heads turning Shaziira would have thought she was hallucinating. "What was that?" That's what she wanted to know as well but she didn't, she swore it sounded like Martin when he. When he. No she wouldn't think of that now.

"It's nothing carry on." The general waved his hand in dismissal as he walked to stand to the side, watching them with only thinly veiled disdain.

"Yes general, give them their last rites."

A priest stepped forwards with her face covered to begin the rights, something about commending their souls to Aetherius, as if that was where she would go, before a soldier interrupted with a snap. "For the love of Talos shut up and let's get this over with!" The priest seemed annoyed to be interrupted but Ziira let out a brief bark of a laugh. He had balls she would admit that as he stalked towards the executioners block.

"Come on, I haven't got all morning. My ancestors are smiling at me Imperials can you say the same?" There was a flash of sunlight on the blade and then down. Down it went through bone and muscle before embedding into the wood below. Her eyes were steadily losing focus as people started shouting, but it sounded like it was coming through cotton.

The body was removed and then, she was being shoved? Why? But she moved with them anyways and finally registered what was happening as her knees hit the cobblestones and a boot was on her back. In any other time she'd have made jokes about finding this hot. But the fact she was going to die here combined with steadily growing roars ruined the amusement of the situation. That and. The fucking massive black dragon on the tower that judging by the screams was not in fact a hallucination. And then it started. Raining fire?

The axe was still in the air but it fell as the executioner did mere inches from her head along with flaming rocks, one of which slammed into her leg. That was enough to drag her out of her stupor and shriek in a mix of pain and terror. It was time to run to flee as fast as possible, but that was fated to not happen as something slammed into her back and the world swam around her before blessed, blessed darkness consumed her.


End file.
